


Truth or Dare, Jungle Juice, and a Linen Closet

by pocky_slash



Series: Team Shithead [14]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghost Hunters, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drinking Games, Established Relationship, Frottage, Graduate School, House Party, M/M, Truth or Dare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 08:30:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11055207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pocky_slash/pseuds/pocky_slash
Summary: Sybil is determined to educate Alexander once she hears he's never played Truth or Dare. The results are mixed, but John's pretty sure they figured out how to win the game.(AKA everyone gets drunk and John & Alex have sex in a closet)





	Truth or Dare, Jungle Juice, and a Linen Closet

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY MY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, FRIENDS AND STRANGERS!
> 
> For my birthday, I have written you a weird little story where everyone discovers Truth or Dare isn't actually that fun when you're an adult. Someone on tumblr requested "truth or dare" as a prompt, I'm pretty sure, and I think I tweaked the prompt to fit it in a way that works for these characters, but it came out pretty well!
> 
> If you are new to this verse, I think this is still more-or-less readable. This is a world where ghosts are real and studying them is a respected science and the gang is in grad school to do just that, but ghosts and school don't even come into it that much. All you really have to know is that they're idiot post-grads who are crazy about each other.
> 
> I really wanted this done for today so I didn't have time to have it beta read! All mistakes, then, are wholly mine. Let me know if there's anything egregious ♥

The muffled 90s dance music that's filtering in through the door and open window briefly blares at full volume as the door to the master bathroom opens and then closes behind Louis Ponter. He's got a Bota Box hanging loosely from one hand and a large pitcher of something dark red clutched in the other. 

"I come bearing gifts," he says, and hefts both of them up for people to see. It's a small crowd hiding in the bathroom to escape the louder-than-usual party raging outside. It's the last one of von Steuben's parties until September, though Ben Walker told John privately that the monthly parties didn't end, they just got smaller, and John and Alex were likely to stay on the guest list. Tonight, John is impatient for those smaller parties to begin. He normally doesn't mind the noise and bustle of von Steuben's theme parties, but the 90s dance party has him at the end of his wits. After limping through final papers and hosting study groups, he'd much rather be somewhere quieter and calmer. Thus, the bathroom escape. 

He, Alex, and Molly are sitting in the tub, a huge thing sunken into the tile with a million little knobs and buttons. It fits the three of them more-or-less comfortably, and, not for the first time, John is desperately curious where von Steuben's money comes from, because it's definitely not teaching. Sitting on the ground with their backs to the vanity drawers are Ben and Sybil Ludington, and Ponter's arrival brings their number up to six.

"No jello shots?" Sybil asks. Jello shots were the centerpiece of the night, for reasons John's not entirely clear on. There was a veritable rainbow of shots in every flavor and in intricate shapes in the kitchen when John and Alex first arrived.

"I don't fuck around with Jello shots after a disastrous game of Truth or Dare in high school," Ponter says. He hands the pitcher to Sybil and the box of wine to Ben before crossing to stretch out on the bench in front of the window.

Sybil pulls the top off of the pitcher and sniffs it dubiously. "You'll bring an entire pitcher of jungle juice but you won't go near jello shots?" 

"It was a bad night," Ponter insists.

"We've all been there," Molly says. "Who among us hasn't gone off something horribly alcoholic because of Truth or Dare gone wrong?"

Alex untangles one of his arms from John and raises it slowly in the air.

"Figures," Ben says. "If anyone could figure out how to _win_ Truth or Dare, it would be Hamilton."

"No, asshole, I mean I've never played," Alex says.

For a moment, all anyone can hear is the distant thudding of 90s dance music. All eyes are on Alex.

John's the first to speak, "Wait, you've never played Truth or Dare?"

Alex elbows him. "Fuck off, you know I didn't have a lot of friends before now."

"Yeah," John says, "but you've been to parties--I know you've been to parties."

"Not until college," Alex says. "I can play Beer Pong and Never Have I Ever and Quarters and all those other dumb drinking games, but Truth or Dare never came up."

Everyone pauses to digest this information, and then Sybil abruptly stands up. She staggers a little on her feet, but it's hard to tell if that's because she's drunk or because she's Sybil--for someone who can do some pretty wicked stunts on her motorcycle, walking seems to stymie her with a surprising amount of frequency.

"We are about to change that, Hamilton," she says, putting her hands on her hips.

Ben covers his face with his hands. "Oh god, please, no," he mutters.

"Do we have to?" John asks. He's pretty comfortable and was looking forward to drinking some shitty mixed drinks made with paint thinner and then kicking everyone else out of this bathroom to fuck Alex on the window seat.

"It's our fucking _sacred duty_ , Laurens, we _cannot_ let this stand," Sybil says.

"You're such a fucking nutcase, Sybil, I swear to god," Molly says, throwing a balled up napkin at her.

"It could be fun," Ponter says. "What version are we playing?"

Alex shifts, sitting up from his sprawl over John, and John groans. It's over, they have Alex's attention, they're all gonna be playing Truth or Dare now whether they fucking like it or not. "There are different versions?" Before anyone can say anything else, he catches himself. "Of course there are. Given the prevalence of the game and the size of your fucking country there are probably hundreds of regional variations."

"...Yeah," Ponter says, deflating a little. John likes Ponter, but the dude has a habit of being an even bigger know-it-all than Alex. "We did 'Truth, Dare, Double-Dare, Promise, or Repeat.'"

"Promise _or_ repeat," Molly says. Now she's paying more attention too. This is definitely their evening now, John is screwed. Or not screwed, as the case may be. "We did 'Promise _to_ Repeat' where I grew up--South Jersey."

"I was in Michigan," Ponter says.

"Well, we just did regular old 'Truth or Dare' up in the Catskills," Sybil says. 

"Same thing in bumblefuck, New York," Ben says.

They all look at John expectantly. He sighs.

"We just played regular 'Truth or Dare' when I was a kid," he says, groaning and pushing himself up straighter. "In Geneva, we played a version--I don't know, we might have made it up, it was 'Truth, Dare, Kiss, or Promise.'"

"Huh," Alex says. "Most of those are pretty self-explanatory, but what's the difference between 'Dare' and "Double-Dare?'"

"Two dares," Ponter says.

"No," Molly says, "You choose someone else to do it, and if they do it, you get a pass, but if they don't, you have to do two dares."

"Regional variations upon regional variations, then," Alex says.

"You're a pretentious fuck," John says.

"You would know."

" _Anyway_ ," Sybil says. "Let's just stick to regular 'Truth or Dare,' yeah?"

"Yeah," Molly says, "the glee in making someone else say, like, 'I'm in love with Hot Boy du Jour' is pretty middle school."

"Speak for yourself, Hot Guy du Jour is dreamy," Sybil says, and John hides his laughter in Alex's shoulder. "Alright. Drinks in hand, folks. Let's do this thing."

There's some shuffling about as Ponter tops glasses off and everyone gets more comfortable. John, Alex, and Molly move to the ledge of the tub instead of inside of it, and Sybil perches on top of the vanity.

"I'll start," Sybil proclaims. "Basic rules--you gotta do whatever it is you choose. If you won't do it, you're out of the game. After you do your truth or your dare, you pick the next person. Benjamin Walker--truth or dare?"

"Will you give me a dare that doesn't involve getting up from the floor?" Ben asks.

"No guarantee," Sybil says.

"Then truth," Ben says.

John can tell from Sybil's smile exactly what this is going to be about. Molly can too, if the way she elbows him is any indication.

"How long after you started here did you start fucking von Steuben?" she asks.

Ben groans and covers his face with his hands again. "I fucking _knew_ someone was gonna ask that!"

"If you'd told me any of the millions of times I've asked you, you wouldn't be in this situation," Molly says. "Because I sure as hell would have spread that gossip around."

"Thanks a lot, Ludwig," Ben mutters and drops his hands. "Second weekend on campus. I stayed late, he offered me a drink, I could low-key tell he was into me so I whined about my ex for a little while trying to get him to go down the, 'Well, he's obviously an idiot, if it were me' route, which, you know. He did. So."

Ponter holds up a hand for a high-five and Ben rolls his eyes and then high-fives him. "Ponce did the same thing," Ponter says. "I just fucking came onto him."

"Of course you did," Molly says, rolling her eyes. "And Ben, that's the most boring story ever."

"Yeah," John says. "I was expecting something more 'Dear Penthouse,' to be honest."

"You want 'Dear Penthouse' material?" Ben asks. "Truth or Dare?"

"Public sex isn't my thing, so with that lead-in, I'm gonna say truth," John says. Alex makes a curious sound next to him and John glances his way, but his face is inscrutable and half hidden behind a half-empty cup. "Is this a conversation we're gonna have to have, Hamilton?"

"We'll see," Alex says, and takes another long drink.

"No one needs to hear the details of your sex life," Molly says.

"Uh, I think I'm about to be ordered to share the details of my sex life, so you're shit out of luck," John says, shoving her a little. 

"Let's split the difference," Ben says. "Tell us about losing your virginity."

"This is a boring story," Alex warns them, and John throws an affectionate arm around his shoulders, then uses his hand to cover Alex's mouth.

"Ignore him," he says.

"It is!" Alex says, muffled, but Ben gestures him to continue.

"So, my first boyfriend was this kid Angus when I was in boarding school in Geneva," John says. "I was...fourteen, I guess? When we started dating. But, anyway, I was out and he was out and there weren't a ton of other queer guys out at school. I was mostly safe from backlash because everyone knew I'd beat the shit out of anyone who tried to bully me and Angus because he was kind of that kid that everyone knew but no one was super close with or had a strong opinion on one way or another? He faded into the background a lot. But, anyway, we were dating because we were both attracted enough to each other and, as he said, desperate for some kind of sexual experience. So we basically just like...methodically went down a list?"

Molly bursts out laughing next to him, nearly slipping back into the tub. John kicks her.

"Are you serious?" Ben says.

"Yeah." John shrugs. "It wasn't a great romance, it was totally hormones, so mostly it was just like, 'I wanna see what sucking dick is like, can I suck your dick?' and shit like that. After a little while, we actually started to like each other well enough, too, in a romantic way. But yeah, the first time we actually like, full-on touched each other's dicks was just in his dorm while his roommate was out, making out for a while. He was like, 'We should jerk each other off,' and I said, 'Yeah, that sounds great,' so we did."

"Hamilton was right, that's a boring story," Ben says with a sigh.

"Speak for yourself, that's an _amazing_ story," Molly says. "Oh my god, you _nerd_!"

John kicks her again. "Alright, you asshole, truth or dare?"

He hopes in his heart of hearts she'll pick truth, because he knows exactly what he can ask her for maximum mortification.

"Truth," she says. "My virginity story isn't _that_ hilarious, but it's pretty good.

"Well, too bad," John says. "Cause instead I'm gonna ask you who you have a crush on."

Molly freezes and then slowly turns red as a tomato, the blush rising up from her shoulders until her whole face is blotchy with it. She shoves John hard enough that he knocks into Alex and they both slide into the tub, Alex's drink sloshing around but, miraculously, not spilling on either of them.

"I _hate you_ , you're _an asshole_!" she moans.

"It's fucking truth or dare, what do you expect?" John says around his laughter. "After last week--"

"Oh my god, shut _up_!"

"--and seeing you mooing like a goddamn--"

She kicks him.

"--romcom heroine...."

Molly sighs and slides down into the tub with them, covering her head with her arms. "This is so embarrassing."

"Who the hell can it be that it's this embarrassing?" Sybil asks. "Oh jesus, wait, is it me?"

That knocks Molly right out of her slump; she scrunches her face up and sits up to shake her head quickly. "Jesus god, no!"

Sybil sniffs. "Well, you don't have to be quite so quick to fucking write me off."

"It's just cliche and terrible and I'm an _idiot_ around her and John walked in on me in a _very vulnerable moment_ \--"

"Get on with it," Ponter says.

"It's fucking--Maggie," Molly says, and covers her head with her arms again.

"Maggie?" Ben asks. "Holy shit, of course it is!"

"Maggie who?" Ponter asks. "Wait, not--"

"Maggie Corbin?" Alex asks. "Like...Maggie the bartender at the Frog?"

Sybil whistles. "Oh, sweetie, you are _not the first_."

"I know!" Molly wails. "It's so dumb and cliche. The only thing worse would be getting a crush on my barista."

"At least she's a lesbian?" Ben offers.

"And she's dated girls from the school before," Ponter says. "It never lasts very long, but she's been there a few years and she's definitely been out with a handful of grad students."

"She's not even my type!" Molly insists. "I don't know what's wrong with me." She tugs hopelessly on her hair and John pats her back until she groans and sits up again. "I hate you, Laurens."

"I know," John says. "I'm sure you have revenge coming down the pike eventually."

"Just wait and see, I'll come up with something super shitty," Molly warns him. "In the meantime, Sybil."

"Yes, ma'am," Sybil says, leaning forward and grinning.

"Truth or Dare?"

"Dare," Sybil says without pause. 

Molly chews on her lower lip and looks thoughtfully around the room. "Jesus, it's been so long since I played this game and I've never played it as an adult. Pick one of the guys and make out with them, I guess?"

"Ugh," Sybil says. "That somehow manages to be wholly unoriginal _and_ a good choice for something I don't want to do, simultaneously. You _know_ 'never kissed a dude' is my 'I've Never' trump card." She looks from John to Alex to Ponter to Ben. "Laurens is gay, Ponter is gay, Ham is pan?"

"Actually," Alex starts to say, and John elbows him before he can launch into his speech about nomenclature in the queer community and bi erasure. "I'm bi," he finished smoothly and glares at John. He finishes his drink pointedly, still glaring.

"Whatever," Sybil says. "Walker?"

"Mostly gay?" Ben says. "I would never date a woman, but I'm not unattracted to some of them."

"Okay," Sybil says. "Between Ponter and Laurens, Laurens wins."

"Does that mean you're going to kiss him or--" John gets the answer to his question soon enough, when Sybil hops off the vanity, marches across the bathroom, and seizes him by his shirt. Alex has an arm around his waist, which keeps him from lurching fully forward when Sybil pulls him, but it definitely knocks him off balance. He wouldn't have ever been prepared for a girl he only half knows to start kissing him, but he's extra caught off guard, balanced precariously on the edge of the bathtub, dangling between his boyfriend and the girl in question.

It's definitely strange, being kissed within an inch of his life by a girl. Mostly, to be honest, it's strange being kissed within an inch of his life by anyone who isn't Alex, at this point. Unless there are hands and bodies involved, kissing is basically kissing--Sybil's mouth is a little smaller than Alex's and she doesn't have stubble, but then again, neither does Alex most of the time. Her technique is just...different. John's been kissing Alex every day, multiple times a day for nine months or so. He knows Alex's mouth inside and out, could tell Alex's kisses a mile away. This feels surreal.

He's not entirely sure how much time passes before Sybil releases him--the awkward seconds feel like they take forever. She pulls away abruptly and lets go of him, at which point he loses his balance and falls fully into the tub _again_ , pulling Alex with him again. Sybil wipes her mouth off--which, hey, kissing him isn't _that_ gross--and glares at Molly.

"Happy?" she asks.

"Like, overall in my life, or with this dare?" Molly asks. Sybil flips her off.

"No one's going to ask about my feelings?" John asks as he pulls himself back up onto the tub ledge.

"How are you feeling, gumdrop?" Alex asks. John glares at him, but he redeems himself by offering John a tissue to wipe his mouth off.

"Disconcerted," John says.

"My poor baby. I know you think girls are yucky."

John elbows him. "Fuck off. I'm not feeling, like, misogynistic about it, kissing is mostly just kissing. But I'm not used to people who aren't you randomly jumping me, regardless of gender."

"I'm oddly touched by that," Alex says. He wraps his arms around John's middle and nuzzles his cheek. John is just tipsy enough to turn into the touch, which leaves them full-on cuddling on the tub ledge in front of everyone else, something he'll maybe consider being embarrassed about later. Alex kisses the tip of his nose and then his lips. He's thorough, but not messy--it's an almost methodical kiss, and John smiles into it because he knows exactly what Alex is trying to do.

"That's better," John murmurs when Alex pulls back, but before John can tug him forward again, Sybil loudly clears her throat.

"Enough being gross all over each other, we're playing a fucking game here," she says. John sighs, but he doesn't disentangle himself from Alex. He finds his cup, perched on a window ledge, and takes another swig of jungle juice while Sybil looks slowly around the room. Alex takes the cup from him and takes a drink as well, wincing at the juxtaposition of kool-aid and whatever paint thinner it's mixed with. "Ponter."

"Yo," Ponter says. "Dare."

"Great," Sybil says. "I dare you to...hm. Okay, I take back what I said, Molly--you're right, this is definitely more difficult now that we're adults."

"Shouldn't it be easier?" Alex says. "Fewer things are taboo now. Sex things, I mean."

"Yeah," Molly says, "but there's also less shame about them. If someone dared thirteen year old me to kiss _anyone_ I would freak out. If someone dared twenty-three year old me to kiss any of you assholes, I'd do it without flinching because, you know. Whatever."

"I guess that's true," Alex says.

"I'm growing old waiting on this dare, Sybil," Ponter says.

"Asshole," Sybil says. "Okay. I dare you to...text a dick pic to your most recent ex." She clarifies, " _Your_ dick, like, a dick pic you have of your own dick. Not a random dick."

"You're...an asshole," Ponter mutters, but he pulls out his phone and starts tapping the screen.

"That's the game, sweetheart," Sybil says. 

Ponter glances up at her with narrowed eyes and then looks down at his phone again. A few taps later and he turns the phone around for her to see. Even from where he's sitting, John can see a not unimpressive picture of Ponter's junk on the screen.

"Huh," Alex says appreciatively.

"No one we know," John reminds him automatically.

"I would never," Alex promises. He nuzzles John again and then kisses his temple, his cheek, the corner of his mouth. "No one but you except for those predetermined circumstances outside either of our control." 

John hums in confirmation and Alex rubs against him like a cat. Alex had a solo cup full of jungle juice before the game even started and now he's finished another one ten minutes in. For the sake of John's plans for the evening, it's probably best to cut him off now.

"Okay," Ponter says. "Hamilton--Truth or Dare?"

Alex looks down at where he's wrapped around John, then looks around the room. "Uh, truth. I dunno if I can stand up right now."

Definitely time to cut him off.

"Excellent, just what I was hoping for," Ponter says. "Because I have been so fucking curious about this since it happened--what the fuck is up with your open relationship? What's the story there? Because I've seen you guys and it makes no logical sense to me."

Alex looks carefully at John as he says, "It's not really my story to tell, Ponter."

And maybe John's had a little too much to drink as well, because that feels twenty times sweeter than it probably is, objectively. He gives Alex a half smile and a shrug. "It's okay. You can tell them. It's not a secret."

"Are you sure?" Alex asks. He strokes John's hair back from his face, both deadly serious and drunk enough that he can't quite focus right.

"Molly knows already," John says. "It's fine."

Ben points accusingly at Molly. "You've known this whole time?" 

"Not my secret to tell!" Molly says.

"So if you knew when I started sleeping with Steubs, everyone in the department would know, but you know this thing about Ham and Laurens that we're all dying to know and suddenly it's not your secret?"

"There's a difference between when you started banging our boss whom we all know you're banging and the intricacies of other people's vulnerabilities and relationships," Molly says. "Plus, your thing would be funny. This thing isn't."

"All of you shut up," Ponter says. Once they comply, he looks at Alex. "Ham. Spill."

Alex turns to John one more time and squeezes him a little tighter. "It's pretty boring. Sometimes John's sex drive disappears for, like, weeks at a time." He's starting to flush, his ears turning distinctly red. It will never stop being fascinating to John that Alex will talk about his deepest feelings until he's blue in the face, but gets stammery when he's talking about sex. "Which, you know--not a big deal. But since I have, you know...um, a higher sex drive? And sometimes I get like...." He makes a vague hand gesture.

"Manic," John supplies.

"I'm not _manic_ , that's a specific diagnostic term, and you're not qualified to hand down that diagnosis."

"Manic," John repeats, nodding at the rest of them. Molly and Ben nod back--they, at least, have seen Alex at his most _Alex_ , working on five projects at once and carrying on a conversation, all without missing a beat.

"Whatever," Alex says. He throws his hands up in the air, teeters precariously on the edge of the tub ledge, and then hugs John again to steady himself. "The point is, sometimes I have a lot of energy and I need an outlet and if that overlaps with John not...you know...then sometimes I go out and pick up somebody else." There's a silent beat. "There are rules."

"I bet you have 'em written down somewhere," Ben mutters.

"We do," Alex confirms proudly.

"That's it?" Ponter asks.

"There's nothing kinky involved, no," John says dryly. "Sometimes knowing the truth isn't half as exciting as the shit your brain makes up to fill in the gaps."

Ponter lazily flips him off and fills his cup up again from the bota box on the ground. "Disappointing."

"Well, it's the truth," Alex says, and presses his face into the space between John's shoulder and neck, not doing anything but sighing happily and keeping close. Molly, Sybil, Ben, and Ponter stare at him expectantly and John eventually clears his throat.

"Babe," he says.

"Hm?"

"It's your turn to pick someone and give them a truth or a dare."

Alex groans and sits up again. "This game is ridiculous."

"It was probably invented by middle schoolers, so you're not wrong," John says. 

"There could at least be a drinking component to keep it interesting," he continues. "'Never Have I Ever' is the same basic concept, but you add the drinking as a metric to determine _winners_. This doesn't have a _winner_ , you just seemingly go in circles until someone gets bored."

"Now that you mention it," Molly says, "I can't really remember how 'Truth or Dare' usually ends. Is there a number? Do we keep going until everyone has gone like, five times? Do we keep going until the truths and dares get to be too much and everyone quits rather than answer questions or do ridiculous things?"

"I honestly can't remember," Sybil says.

"Same," John says.

"I'm pretty sure most of my games ended in boredom," Ben says.

"Hamilton, play your fucking round," Ponter says.

Alex glares at him and steals John's drink again, taking a healthy gulp before looking around the room at each of their friends. John casually moves the cup out of his reach.

"Okay. Molly. Truth or dare?"

Molly sighs. "I'm already bored. Dare, I guess."

Alex lets go of John and fumbles to get his phone of out his pocket. John watches over his shoulder as he unlocks it and opens up his browser.

"You're supposed to give her a dare, not start texting someone," Ben says.

Alex types _truth or dare dares_ and hits enter. When the results come up, he sighs and changes it to _truth or dare dares adults_ and tries again. He clicks the first result and scrolls down a little.

"Ham," Molly says. "I don't have all day."

"He's literally googling it," John says, hooking his chin over Alex's shoulder.

"'Do a shot off the person to your right,'" Alex reads off the screen.

And John nods along until he realizes who's on Molly's right. "Shit."

"You're getting a lot of female attention tonight, Laurens," Molly says. "Lay down on the ground and take your shirt off."

"I didn't even realize who was on your right when I read it," Alex says, "but I'm clearly being rewarded for being thorough enough to google instead of just making some shit up."

"Baby, if you wanted me to take my shirt off, you just had to ask," John says, dropping his t-shirt on top of Alex's head. He stands up and then climbs over the opposite ledge of the tub to lie on the floor. "What are you doing, just the fucking jungle juice?"

"It's more or less straight vodka anyway," Molly says. "Have you, like, showered recently?"

"I'm vaguely offended you even had to ask that," John says. He settles on the cool tile and wiggles until he's comfortable. Molly still goes into the vanity and pulls out an alcohol swab which she uses to clean the area around his belly button. He should be offended, but mostly he just tries to keep himself from flinching too much--the movement tickles. "Satisfied that you won't get tetanus from my stomach?"

"I guess," Molly says. She pours a little of her drink into his navel, and John tries not to move. He's wearing khaki shorts and he's not sure how easily Steubs' ridiculous concoction will wash out if he gets it all over himself. "I've never done this with a dude before. Don't move, Laurens."

"Trying not to," John says, and then Molly leans over and sucks the liquid out of his navel. That tickles, too, and once she sits up, John grabs the same alcohol swab from her to clean up the lingering stickiness.

"Ta-da!" she says. "You just made the gayest people in the room do the straightest dare possible."

"Yeah, a lot of these things are really heteronormative," Alex says, waving his phone at them. "But that's not even close to the straightest, there's stuff that is _alarmingly_ sexual for a party game."

John pushes himself up off the floor and accepts Alex's offered hand as he steps back into the tub to sit on the far ledge again. He reaches for his t-shirt, but before he can take it back, Alex tosses it across the room and out of reach.

"Oops," he says.

"You're such a shit," John says, but he doesn't get up to retrieve it and he smiles when Alex kisses his bare shoulder and then wraps himself around John, fingers roving over his exposed skin.

"At least have the decency to get a room if you're gonna start fucking," Ben says.

"We have a room, you're all just in it," John shoots back.

"How are your lines _so bad_ when you're so smart and so hot?" Alex murmurs against his collarbone. John shivers and slides one hand into Alex's hair, messing up his loose ponytail and curling around the back of his skull.

"Are we still playing a game or what?" Molly asks. 

"Yes!" Sybil insists. "We're playing til we finish! Despite the fact that none of us seem to know how to determine that."

"Fine," Molly says. "Benjy."

"Don't call me that," Ben says automatically. Then, "I don't know, dare, whatever."

"Hm." Molly plops back down on John's other side and hums thoughtfully. Meanwhile, Alex keeps tracing his fingers all over John's chest, outlining his muscles, tracing his ribs, connecting his freckles, and generally making him twitch and flinch at the tickling exploration. When his thumb starts to slide down from John's navel towards the top button of his shorts, John grabs his hand and interlocks their fingers, pulling it away.

"That tickles," he says, and Alex sighs against the side of his jaw.

"Ruining my fun," Alex murmurs. His other arm, wrapped low around John's waist, pulls him even closer, a mean feat when they're already pressed so tightly together.

"I'll let you have all the fun you want later," John promises. Alex's breath smells overly sweet, the cloying, unspecified fruity aroma of kool-aid. It's made his lips red, too, or maybe that's just the result of biting them absently. Either way, it's distracting enough to catch John's attention, which is all the encouragement Alex needs to close that sliver of space between them and kiss John again. 

Alex's mouth tastes the same way it smells, sugary sweet with an alcoholic tang. He sucks on John's lower lip and then slips his tongue into John's mouth, each movement slow and deliberate, ratcheting up John's heart rate. He shakes his hand out of John's and then wraps it around John's hip. John shivers--the room is cool and Alex's hands arm warm, both of them now sitting right at his waistband. Alex rubs his thumbs against John's hipbones and then hooks them into his shorts and John forgets why this is a bad idea.

"Yo! Dipshits!" 

John's t-shirt hits the back of his head and it's enough for him to pull back from Alex, who lets out a sad whine at the loss. John blinks and looks around the room. Ponter is staring at them with detached interest. Molly has picked up John's shirt from where it fell into the tub and looks ready to throw it again. Sybil is glaring at them from the vanity and Ben is missing entirely.

"What?" John asks.

"Don't have sex in the hot tub while we're all sitting around watching, is what," Molly says. "It's gonna put me off my dinner."

"Speak for yourself," Ponter says.

John rolls his eyes. "Where's Walker?"

"I sent him on his dare," Molly says. Alex sighs loudly and wraps himself around John again, laying his head on his shoulder and using the new angle to kiss John's neck. John puts his hand on Alex's thigh and squeezes warningly, though perhaps his hand is a little high to be an effective deterrent. "He has to show us some concrete proof of his fucking Steubs. A picture or a video or something."

"Of them actually fucking?" John asks.

"No, just of them like...together," Molly says. "He said he didn't have any, I called bullshit, so he changed his story and claims Steubs has something on his phone or tablet or whatever. So he's off to fetch it."

"What's the point of that?" Alex asks, the words rumbling against John's skin. "We already know they're fucking. It's been confirmed, like, nine hundred ways."

"I mean, we know," Sybil says, "but we don't _know_. I just can't even imagine it."

"I can," Ponter says dryly.

"Gee, I wonder why," Molly says. To Alex and John, she adds, "Plus, it pisses him off when we bring it up, and pissing Ben off is like, my main hobby, so."

"Fair," John says, and Alex snorts, then goes back to kissing John's neck and shoulders, which John tries valiantly to ignore. At least he's wearing baggy shorts. And, with classes and TAing done, he's less concerned about Alex marking him up than he normally might be. Still, he murmurs, " _Alex_ " warningly and squeezes his thigh again. Alex just presses his thigh up into John's hand, but otherwise ignores him.

"You two are shameless," Sybil says.

"It's not my fault," John says unconvincingly, and tries not to make any further noises when Alex bites him. "I wanna see Ben's proof, but after-- _Jesus_!" He digs his nails into Alex's thigh and pauses to catch his breath. He can feel Alex's self-satisfied smirk against his throat. "After, we're getting out of here," he finishes breathlessly. 

Although, Alex seems to be working to ensure that they leave sooner rather than later, regardless of when Ben gets back. 

Sybil and Molly start gossiping about Tad Kosciuszko as the indeterminable wait for Ben's return stretches onward, which is good because it covers up how labored John's breathing is becoming with Alex half on his lap, now, and not even pretending this is anything but foreplay any longer. He twists one of his hands into John's hair and that's it--that's the end, John needs to get them both out of there before he embarrasses himself. Before he can push Alex up and make a hasty retreat, however, Ben sulks back into the room with an iPad that he shoves at Molly. It's enough to catch John's attention, peering over her shoulder at the screen. And, yup, there's von Steuben and Ben, shirtless and on a beach somewhere, pressed together to take a selfie.

"Whoa," Molly says. "There's knowing and then there's seeing."

"Right?" John says. Even Alex glances at the screen for a moment as Molly shifts through the rest of the photo gallery. More selfies, some pictures of Ben sunbathing, then some pictures of the two of them kissing and then a picture of von Steuben's hand slipping somewhere that John doesn't really want to think about. Molly either, if the way she tosses the iPad into Sybil's waiting hands is any indication.

"Happy?" Ben asks flatly.

"I'm not sure if 'happy' is the right word," Molly says.

"I'm pretty happy, but for other reasons, probably," John says, and Alex yanks on his hair so hard he almost makes a really embarrassing sound. "Although, if you loosened up about this whole fucking thing it wouldn't be such a big deal. We all know it's going on."

"Just because the two of you fucking parade yourselves around for everyone to see doesn't mean all of us are comfortable with that," Ben snaps.

"It's not parading around," John says. Walker's really harshing this heady mixture of mild buzz and building arousal John's sunken into. "It's being a fucking human person who's out of the closet and in love with another person who's not ashamed of it."

He knows, immediately, that "ashamed" is not a word he should have used. None of it really needed to be said--he didn't need to take a dig at Ben in defending his right to be affectionate with his boyfriend. But it's never hard for him to slip from "buzzed" to "pissed" and his heart is thudding quickly for an entirely different reason now. Alex seems to notice--he sits up, pupils blown wide, mouth red and sloppy from marking up John's neck and shoulders, vaguely annoyed that the attention is no longer on him.

"I'm not fucking ashamed!" Ben snarls. "And I'm certain as hell not in the goddamn closet. I'm _discreet_ , which is maybe something you should look up in the goddamn dictionary if you can take two seconds away from blowing Hamilton."

"He's definitely not blowing me, much to my dismay," Alex mutters.

"Fuck off, Walker," John says instead of shoving him, which is a sign of his maturity, he's sure, and not his desire to get the hell out of the bathroom and get back to what he was doing with Alex.

"You can't even defend yourself because we all know it's true," Ben continues, pointing at them accusingly. He's red in the face, and John notes for the first time that the pitcher of jungle juice that was between Ben and Sybil and was half full when they started is now completely empty. "You've got no fucking dignity or restraint! You're like a teenager who just discovered his goddamn dick."

"Ben, you're so fucking drunk," Molly says. "Leave them alone."

"You don't know anything about my fucking life," John says sharply. 

"Yeah, cause you're too busy sucking face and dick to tell anyone about it!" 

"Ben!" Molly snaps as John shoots to his feet, shaking free of Alex.

"As much as I normally enjoy watching you beat the shit out of people, fucking reign it in," Alex says, grabbing his wrist and tugging him backwards.

"Yeah, listen to your boyfriend, god knows you can't go fifteen minutes without getting your dick wet," Ben sneers. And John _knows_ that the mature thing to do would be to flip him off and leave, but he's had just enough to drink to make bad decisions and it's a struggle to walk away from a fight, even one this stupid, even with Alex uncharacteristically trying to talk him down. "I bet you couldn't go ten minutes without climbing all over each other. In fact, I _dare you_ to go ten minutes without touching each other."

"We're done with this fucking game," John says and yanks Alex to his feet by his wrist, catching him off guard. He sways and grabs John to steady himself and Ben snorts, like Alex losing his balance is proof of his stupid accusations.

"I bet you ten bucks you can't!"

"Goodbye!" John says, climbing out of the tub, still dragging Alex behind him. 

"Twenty bucks!" Ben yells. John ignores him. "Fifty! Each."

John hesitates. Alex hesitates as well, and Ben latches onto it.

"Yeah," he says. "A hundred bucks total that you two can't be in the same space without being all over each other for ten minutes."

"Jesus, Walker, leave them alone," Sybil says.

"No," John says slowly. "No, I'll take that bet." They go ten minutes without touching each other all the time. When they have different classes or assignments, yeah, but even sometimes when they're home and sharing the couch as they work on projects. John likes some of those evenings the best, sitting next to Alex without touching him, but knowing that he's right there within reach.

"Do I get a say in this?" Alex asks.

"Fifty bucks," John reminds him. "That's a lot of gummy bears, babe."

Alex rolls his eyes, but he doesn't protest again. Ben looks back and forth between them, smirking, then crosses the room and yanks open the door of a small closet near the tub. A very small closet. It has two bathrobes hanging in it and nothing else, not that there would be room for anything. The whole thing is only about as wide as John's shoulders.

"You take off your clothes and you stay in here, together, for ten minutes," Ben says, pulling the bathrobes out and tossing them on the floor.

"In the closet," Molly says flatly. "That's a dumb pun even for you, Ben."

"Not intentional," Ben says. "Stay in there together without touching each other for ten minutes and I'll give you both fifty bucks."

John kicks off his shoes. "Fine!" he says. He tosses his belt to the ground and then unbuttons his shorts and pulls them and his boxers down together.

"Jesus!" Molly says and whirls around so her back is to him. He steps out of his pants, belatedly realizing that the argument perhaps continued what Alex started in regards to riling him up. The mild embarrassment of inadvertently waving his boner around is enough to start to break through the bubble of anger that was powering him through the argument. He glances over at Alex, who's begrudgingly struggling out of his jeans and it suddenly occurs to him that this is, perhaps, not the smartest thing he's ever done.

"I hate everything about this dare," Molly says, with her back to them, still. "I have no need to see Laurens' and Ham's junk." Sybil is also shielding her eyes a little overdramatically, but John's not much happier about the whole thing. For a multitude of reasons, really, that are dawning on him one by one as he watches Alex finish stripping and cross his arms irately.

"I can't believe I'm drunk enough to let you talk me into this," he mutters.

Ben ignores him and shoos them both towards the open door. "Now, get in the closet. We'll be right outside and we'll definitely hear if you so much as kiss. The ten minutes start when the door closes."

"This is garbage," Alex says.

"It's fine," John says, summoning the last of his pride and righteous indignation. "We can totally do this. Fifty bucks each if we manage it."

"Fifty bucks each," Ben agrees. "Get in the goddamn closet."

Alex marches into the closet and pulls John after him. They rearrange themselves awkwardly--doubly awkwardly when they both turn the same way at the same time and end up accidentally grinding against each other. John has to grit his teeth to keep from groaning at the sensation. Once they've each put their backs to opposite walls, Ben smirks at them and then closes the door. 

"Ten minutes starts now!" Ben says.

The sound of their breathing is loud in the dark of the closet. Outside, John hears Molly mutter about how stupid this is and how unfair it is that none of the rest of them got money for their dares. Inside, Alex shifts from foot to foot, a slightly darker shape in the encompassing darkness that John's eyes haven't yet adjusted to.

John estimates that maybe a full minute passes before one of them breaks the silence.

"This is fine," Alex says. He shifts again.

"Sure," John says. He can feel Alex's body heat. They're so, so close--John wouldn't even have to take a full step forward to bring them chest-to-chest. When Alex exhales, the burst of air tickles John's sensitive throat. "Think how much hotter it'll be after ten minutes of not touching each other."

"Probably the longest we've ever gone," Alex jokes, but there's an odd breathlessness to his voice. John understands it--this space is too small, being this close to Alex and not being able to touch him is driving him crazy. The dark makes it worse--he's _right there_ and every cell of John's body is straining for contact. He was already nearly drunk on his arousal when they were sitting on the edge of the tub--now that he's in a confined space with Alex, totally naked, he thinks he might explode if he doesn't get Alex's hands on him soon.

"Ten minutes," John repeats.

"Yeah," Alex says, one shaky exhale. Outside, Molly and Sybil are talking again and someone is watching a video or listening to a song on their phone. John's eyes are slowly adjusting to the darkness of the closet, but in the meantime he's dizzy, stuck in the space between being aware of his surroundings and being unsure of where anything around him really is. "What are you going to do to me when we get out?"

John has to swallow hard before he can respond. "What did you just say?" he asks, even though his body certainly understood the invitation.

"What," Alex says slowly, hot and direct and a little slurred from drinking all night, "are you going to do to me when we get out of here?" He shifts again and the sound of the movement makes John's dick twitch.

"I...haven't decided," John says. Normally, he's all in for dirty talk, but something about the small, dark space they're in has thrown him off balance. He needs to rally, try and get his head on straight. "When we first got here, I thought maybe I'd fuck you tonight. But you've had your mouth all over me and now I think...I think maybe I want you to suck me off."

"Sounds like a good plan to me." Alex sounds like he can't catch his breath, which is about how John feels. It's not claustrophobia, exactly, just the knowledge that they're in this tight, confined space, the air around them heating up on every exhale, their bodies just shy of touching. No, not claustrophobia--something much hotter.

"Is that what you wanted?" John asks, finally falling into the groove of something not unlike their usual bedroom patter. "To get your mouth on my dick?"

"S'what I always want," Alex says. "Or my hand or my ass or...any part of my body. I want your dick's full attention. I think I have it now."

John swallows again. "You always have it," he admits. "There are days I'm trying for the fucking life of me to pay attention in class, but you start playing with your hair or sucking on the back of your pen and my dick decides differently. You could do whatever the fuck you wanted to me and I think I'd find a way to find it hot."

"Anything I wanted?" Alex asks. There's an unnameable quality to his voice that makes John shudder so hard he almost touches Alex just from the violence of the movement. "I could come up with a lot of things I want from you, Laurens."

"Name 'em," John manages to say. He's uncomfortably hard, just from sharing Alex's space and listening to him talk. His entire body is at attention, every hair standing on end, goosebumps prickling all over him despite the heat of being stuck in the closet like this.

"Last week, when you were fixing whatever the fuck on your car and you were lying on the ground and I kept having to hand you shit?" John doesn't know what the fuck that has to do with anything and he's gonna be really fucking pissed if he pops a boner every time he changes his oil from here on out. 

"Yeah?"

"I zoned out, I started thinking about what you would do if I held you down like that." Alex knows very well what he would do. Alex has made a habit out of low-key teasing him about his _totally normal_ kink for light restraint as much as possible in the past nine months. "Just held you down, made you rub off on my thigh if you wanted to come. Maybe I would fuck you. Maybe I would feed you my cock. Right there on the ground."

John is absolutely going to pop a boner the next time he changes his oil.

"Alex," he breathes. He can't take it anymore--fuck the money--he reaches down and grabs his own cock, strokes himself once and bites back a groan. "What else?"

"Are you--are you fucking--" Alex's seductive voice has gone high and squeaky. "That's--"

"Fuck the dare," John hisses, gasping around the words. "Fuck the fifty bucks. What else are you going to do to me? Right now. Right here in this closet."

He can almost hear the moment Alex's resolve breaks. The air in the closet is too quiet, too still and suddenly there's no distance between them at all, nor is there any distance between John and the wall behind him. Alex yanks his face up by his hair and John can hold back the moan that rips out of him at that. Distantly, he hears the others in the main room start to talk amongst themselves and maybe someone shouts something at the closet door, but he doesn't care--Alex's mouth is on his, Alex's _body_ is against his, forcing him almost up onto his toes with a thigh between his legs. He grinds down and Alex presses up, some outstanding feat of balance and physics as they brace themselves against the walls and each other in jerky, uncoordinated movements that still somehow feel so _good_. 

They've found a rhythm, even though all they're doing is writhing against each other. John manages to reach down and grasp Alex's cock and Alex responds by pulling his hair again, jerking him to the side to kiss and bite at his neck, which leaves John's mouth free to make a really embarrassing noise as tears spring to his eyes. He loses his balance and throws his arms around Alex's shoulders, nearly all of his weight now resting on the thigh that Alex is relentlessly rubbing against his groin.

"Do you think...do you think you can come like this?" Alex asks, ragged.

"Baby," John gasps, "I think we just discovered that I can come just from listening to you talk."

Alex startles a little at that and then both lose their balance again, bumping against the walls until they crash into the door, which flies outwards and deposits them on the floor. The bathroom is empty now, which is about as much as John observes before Alex wraps his hand around both of their cocks and his brain short circuits and refocuses entirely on that hot, slick drag of skin against skin. Alex's grip is so tight, so hot, that the night of drawn out foreplay catches up to him all at once. He bites Alex's shoulder when he comes, his vision going dark and spotty. Alex chases his own orgasm by rubbing off against John's stomach, now slick with sweat and come, and finishes with an aborted shout, buried in the space between John's shoulder and neck.

They lay on the cool tile for a few minutes after, breathing hard and listening to the distant beat of the music drifting in from the party.

"Well," John says breathlessly, "I think we figured out how to end a game of 'Truth or Dare:' lose very, very graphically."

"I'm not an expert, but I'm pretty sure we won," Alex says, and John laughs and groans and grabs Alex by the hand, tugging him up off of the floor.

"Come on," he says, realizing abruptly how sore and sticky he is already. "At least we had the good sense to do that in a bathroom--what do you say we give von Steuben's tub a whirl and get cleaned up?" He turns to Alex and raises an eyebrow. "And then maybe spend round two figuring out what some of those knobs and buttons do?"

"We definitely won," Alex says, his lips curling up into a grin that promises only good things to come.


End file.
